Into the Dark
by ChemiToo
Summary: The protagonists from Amnesia: The Dark Descent and the Penumbra game series join forces to figure out how to escape either Brennenburg Castle or The Shelter. Some language and scary things.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes:**

**Howdy! This is my first attempt at a crossover, so if it's terrible-sorry.**

**I used quite a bit of dialogue from the actual games to try and link scenes from both games together, so I am crediting Amnesia: The Dark Descent and Penumbra: Black Plague here.**

**Takes place in the first part of The Dark Descent before entering Storage and right before Philip has to inject himself with crazy mystery drugs in order to get through that one door in The Shelter in Penumbra: Black Plague.**

* * *

Philip stared down at the loaded syringe with trepidation. He really didn't want to do this. But, then again, he had to if he intended on getting through that doorway.

"You won't do it," Clarence taunted him from within his skull, "You're too much of a coward," he snickered. Philip slammed his eyes closed as he tried to drown him out. He needed to do this. If nothing else, he needed to do this in order to get rid of _him_.

He inhaled deeply, raising the syringe in his quivering right hand and preparing to inject—

He swore as the barrel slipped from his grasp. He bent down to retrieve it, only…it wasn't there.

"What the hell…?" he muttered, frowning. Maybe it had bounced or something when it fell? He got onto all fours, crawling around on the wooden floor to find it—

Wait a minute.

He realized with a jolt that the floor he had been standing on was made of concrete, not wood. He slowly rose to his feet, looking around. He was standing in a long corridor, adorned with tattered carpets and dusty tapestries. It looked like something out of an old Dracula movie.

"What…?" he mumbled to himself, the panic welling up inside his chest as he threw off the hood of his jacket and made a break for it down the hallway.

"Damn you, Clarence!" he hissed, positive it was the Tuurngait's way of entertaining himself, making Philip see things that weren't even there-

He nearly had a heart attack as a sinister growl met his ears. Illusion or not, it sounded real enough. Philip screeched to a halt and slammed himself against the wall, watching down the hallway for any sign of movement. Was it one of the Infected?

He waited, and saw nothing. This was ridiculous. It was just Clarence, making him run in circles around the room in front of that door—

He cried out as something slammed into him from the side, nearly knocking him over. He spun around in terror, expected to be face-to-face with one of the Infected. Instead, a man with rather long brown hair was staring at him, eyes wild in the light of the lantern he carried.

"Who are you?" he demanded as Philip said "Who're you?" simultaneously. They both stared at each other for a moment before answering.

"Daniel," the other guy answered, looking Philip up and down and frowning.

"Great. I'm Philip," he growled, not at all pleased with the sudden change of scenery, "Where are we? What is this place? What happened to the Greenland facility-?"

"Sshh!" Daniel hissed, looking around frantically, "It's not safe here; they'll _hear _you,"

"Who will?"

"Alexander's servants,"

"Who the hell is Alexander-?"

"SSH!"

Philip frowned deeply as he followed Daniel down the hallway. This was beyond ridiculous now.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Somewhere safer, I hope," Daniel answered cryptically, "This way,"

* * *

Philip looked around nervously as he followed Daniel through a winding set of corridors and down a staircase. He was about to ask "are we there yet?" when Daniel finally stopped in front of some kind of fountain.

"All right," Daniel sighed, extinguishing the lantern and staring at Philip, "Where did you come from?"

"Greenland," Philip snapped irritably, "I told you, I was in Greenland. Now I'm...wherever this is," he added, throwing his arm to the size haphazardly for emphasis.

"Brennenburg," Daniel said quietly, looking at him with a studious frown.

"Brennenburg?" Philip repeated, "And where is this 'Brennenburg,' exactly?" he pried rather rudely. He was in no mood for this.

"Prussia," Daniel answered hollowly, clearly not in any mood for nonsense either. A brief…something crossed the man's face after he spoke. It might have been surprise, but Philip didn't have time to analyze it. Philip just stared at him, blinking a few times as his mind fought to catch up. There was no Prussia—at least, not anymore. Hadn't been one for centuries…

He frowned, looking over Daniel a little more carefully. He was roughly Philip's height, maybe a few inches taller. He looked like he was somewhere in his early twenties, with a somewhat odd wardrobe. The overcoat, the long hair…

"What?" Daniel demanded, squirming under Philip's blatant staring.

"When is this?" Philip whispered.

"What?" the other man repeated.

"The year. What year is it?" Philip elaborated frantically.

"1839," Daniel answered quietly.

Philip had to fight to keep standing at that point. He staggered backward a few steps and caught himself, his mind reeling. 1839. It explained everything—the clothes, the wooden hallway in the…castle?

"Are you all right?" Daniel asked worriedly.

"No," Philip said absently. How in the hell had he ended up here? Had he somehow traveled back in time? Impossible. He was a physicist, for God's sake. He knew full well that time travel wasn't something that just _happened_. You'd need a wormhole or something—

"A what?" Daniel asked, "'Wormhole?' What are you talking about?"

Philip frowned; he must have been thinking aloud.

"I'm not supposed to be here," he blurted, pacing around the room frantically. Daniel watched him curiously, "I'm supposed to be-"

"In Greenland," Daniel said flatly, "You've said that already,"

"Yeah," Philip conceded, rubbing the back of his head. His headache had calmed down, so had Clarence-

Clarence. This was his doing-all of it.

"CLARENCE, YOU BASTARD! CUT THE SHIT!" he bellowed, causing Daniel to cringe and look around worriedly.

"Quiet! Those things might hear you!" Daniel hissed. Philip ignored him.

"This is NOT FUNNY!" Philip shouted, his voice reverberating off of the walls of the castle. He yelped as he was roughly shoved to the floor, Daniel's hand covering his mouth.

"I said: be quiet," Daniel whispered dangerously. He waited until Philip nodded before taking his hand away, "Keep it down," he warned, "And who is Clarence?" he added, tilting his head to the side.

"Never mind," Philip sighed. Perhaps it wasn't the Tuurngait after all. Maybe this _was_ real, "I…look," he started, trying to figure out the most delicate way to put this, "I'm from the year 2001. I have no idea how I ended up here, or why,"

Daniel stared at him blankly.

"I know how ridiculous that sounds, but it's true," Philip said with a shrug. It was rather warm in here, he noted vaguely. Warmer than in the facility, anyway. He unzipped his jacket, waiting for Daniel's response.

"Well…that certainly explains your clothes," Daniel reasoned finally after a long pause, "Sorry, but I have no idea how to help you,"

"You can help me by getting me the hell out of here," Philip insisted.

"I…can't," Daniel muttered, looking down sheepishly.

"What do you mean, you can't?" Philip snapped, "Just show me the exit,"

"That's the problem," Daniel continued, "I can't. There's something hunting me. I have to kill Alexander," he blurted, staring down at the floor.

Philip just stared at him, dumbstruck.

"What?" he managed, though he was pretty sure he was gearing up for an aneurysm. His blood pressure must have been skyrocketing.

"I have to kill Alexander-"

"Yes, but why? Who is he?" Philip interrupted, "And what's hunting you?"

To his dismay, Daniel shrugged and pulled a piece of paper out of the pocket of his overcoat.

"I found this after I came to," he explained, handing it to Philip.

"'Came to?' What, you were knocked out?" Philip asked as he proceeded to scan the paper. He felt his heart sink as he came to the end of the letter.

"So, you drugged yourself?" he inquired.

"I guess so," Daniel answered, shrugging again.

"And now you don't remember anything about where we are or how to escape, except there's something after you and you need to kill some guy named Alexander," Philip continued flatly.

"Pretty much, yes," Daniel responded curtly.

"Well that's great," Philip growled sarcastically, handing the note back to Daniel and rubbing his temples, "That's just fantastic," he added for emphasis, looking up at the fountain and inhaling deeply, preparing to sigh. He stopped himself as he saw what looked like a giant stone centipede with a baby's face snaking its way out of the fountain, a stream of water pouring out of his mouth. He released the breath quickly, deflating. As if his day couldn't get any worse.

"So now what?" he asked, turning toward Daniel. The man was studying him again, brown eyes fixed on him curiously.

"Keep looking around, I guess," Daniel said half-heartedly as he scanned the room. His eyes fell on a door at the top of the staircase.

"That one?" Philip asked, gesturing toward it. Daniel nodded hesitantly.

"All right, let's go," he sighed. It was better than standing around doing nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

They walked into a small room with a window at the opposite end—a study of some kind, maybe? Philip wasn't sure, but the place was a mess. The entire room had been torn apart; dressers overturned, clothing strewn about…

"My journal," Daniel mumbled.

"What?" Philip asked, turning toward him. The man had gone very pale (more so than before, if possible, though Philip was sure he didn't look much better) and was staring at the floor.

"My journal is gone," Daniel continued, ignoring him, "What would they want with my journal?"

Philip paused, waiting for the other man to come out of it. Finally, Daniel looked up, his brown eyes wide.

"This was my room," he said slowly, looking around.

"You live here?" Philip asked, flabbergasted. The place looked like it was on the verge of falling apart; whoever would live in a place like this was insane.

"No, I'm from London…at Mayfair," Daniel continued absently, walking through the doorway to an adjacent room. Philip followed cautiously, though he wasn't quite sure what was going on. Apparently he was regaining some of the memory he'd lost?

"That's right…I hid something here…" Daniel muttered, rushing past Philip and heading back toward another door. Philip hesitantly followed, frowning. Daniel tried to push the door open, but it wouldn't budge.

"Lock's broken," he stated, frowning and looking around.

"How bout this?" Philip offered, picking up a crowbar that was on the desk in the other room.

"Perfect," Daniel said, taking the bar and prying the door open with a crack. Philip followed him inside, closing the door behind him.

"Something…a key? Maybe a key is in here?" Daniel muttered disjointedly, throwing drawers open and rummaging through them.

"A key to what?" Philip asked, pulling out another drawer and overturning it onto the floor. He was disappointed to see only a few shirts come tumbling out.

"I think it's-"

Daniel stopped dead as a crashing sound and a low growling came from the adjacent room.

"What was that?" Philip hissed as Daniel ran over to a wardrobe and jumped inside.

"Hide!" Daniel ordered as the door behind Philip began shaking violently, splintering as whatever was behind it attempted to smash it down. Philip gasped, dashing toward the wardrobe and throwing himself into it. Daniel quickly closed the doors behind him.

Philip tightly closed his eyes as he heard the door give way, heard splinters of wood hitting the floor in a series of plinks. Whatever that thing was outside lumbered around the room, its heavy footsteps crunching on top of the weak floorboards. He fought to control his breathing—it was all he could do to keep from hyperventilating, and it didn't appear that Daniel was faring any better. Philip could only make out his silhouette in the darkness; the man was pressed against the back wall of the wardrobe, chest heaving.

Both men flinched as a loud slamming sound announced the creature's departure. Neither one of them moved again for several moments, staring at one another's silhouettes anxiously.

"I think it's gone," Daniel whispered shakily, slowly prying open the door of the wardrobe and peering outside. The man's jaw fell to the floor.

"What?" Philip asked nervously, throwing open the door on his half of the wardrobe.

He froze.

They were in the medical ward of The Shelter.

* * *

Daniel blinked a few times, trying to process the scene in front of him. The entire room had changed, and it was made of…was that stone?

"Impossible," he mumbled as a loud noise erupted from his right. He jumped, whirling to face Philip.

"Just zipping up my jacket," Philip said cautiously with a crooked grin, "Don't freak out,"

Daniel fought the urge to scream. What in God's name was happening?

"This is…this is Greenland, isn't it?" he said hollowly, swallowing. Philip nodded slowly, though he genuinely looked terrified. Daniel guessed he probably looked just as bad. What was worse, Philip had been telling the truth after all.

Daniel slowly slid down the wall of the wardrobe, clutching at his hair and drawing his knees to his chest. This was crazy. Absolute madness. Maybe he had finally gone insane, wandering around Brennenburg all that time—

"Hey!" Philip coached, grabbing Daniel by the forearms and dragging him out of the wardrobe, "C'mon, get out of there-I need you to keep it together,"

Daniel staggered to his feet, his haggard breath escaping him in a plume of white mist. He shivered; it was unbearably cold.

"We're in an underground facility," Philip said hurriedly. Daniel barely registered what he was saying over the panic rising in his chest; his ears were ringing, "I'm looking for my father. He disappeared years ago, and he's in here somewhere,"

"W-why?" Daniel managed, his teeth clattering together loudly as he rubbed his arms.

"I don't know. That's why I'm here," he answered, "I need to get through that door," he added, gesturing toward the right. Daniel slowly followed his outstretched arm; this doorway of his was made of some kind of metal, with a dim red light glowing above it.

"Well let's open it then," Daniel snapped, stomping his feet to keep them from going numb, "Maybe it's warmer in there," he added. Philip was quiet for a moment before answering.

"…okay," he sighed, looking down and picking something up off of the floor. Daniel cringed; it looked like a syringe.

"What's that?" Daniel asked anxiously.

"That door won't open unless there's a medical emergency," Philip explained glumly, swallowing hard and tugging his left sleeve up, "See this thing?"

"What is it?" Daniel asked, intrigued at the peculiar thing strapped around Philip's wrist.

"It's a monitoring device. It will be able to tell if I'm having an emergency and should open that door," he explained matter-of-factly, though Daniel noted how his voice shook; the man was terrified.

"And what's the syringe for…?" Daniel said slowly, thinking.

Wait a minute.

"No," he protested, shaking his head, "Philip, that's insane,"

"It's the only way to get through," Philip insisted, frowning, "I should wake up and the door will be open. If…" he hesitated, drawing a deep breath, "If I don't, then you get through that door and try to find a way out of here,"

"I don't like this plan," Daniel said flatly, "Can't you just break the door down?"

"No, dammit, I can't!" Philip snapped, "Just shut up and let me do what I have to," he trailed off, drawing a deep breath and preparing to bring the syringe down onto his exposed forearm.

"Good luck," Daniel muttered stupidly. He mentally smacked himself; what kind of encouragement was that supposed to be?

"Thanks," Philip answered hollowly, closing his eyes, "Here goes," he added before piercing his skin.

The effect was almost instantaneous. Daniel lunged forward as the other man swooned and collapsed onto the floor; he would have slammed his head right into the table were it not for Daniel's reflexes. His eyes had fallen half-shut, only the whites visible as Daniel gently laid him out onto the floor.

"Come on, snap out of it," Daniel muttered anxiously, looking around and hoping there were no Gatherers in Greenland to contend with. It felt like an eternity had passed before Philip sprung to a sitting position with a gasp, looking around wildly. He had broken out into a sweat, gasping for air.

"Oh thank God-are you all right?" Daniel asked worriedly, relieved that he was no longer alone. Philip didn't say anything, but nodded. He stole a look up at the door and grinned.

"Looks like...it worked," he panted between gasps. Daniel turned; the red glow above the door was now green.

"Wonderful," Daniel said flatly, "So…we can just go through then. Can you stand?" he asked, helping Philip to his feet. He wobbled a bit, but steadied himself rather quickly.

"Not yet," Philip said, fishing something from his coat pocket. Daniel felt the blood drain from his face as Philip produced a severed hand and slammed it onto some glowing box toward the other side of the room. He whirled around as the doors opened with a whoosh.

"W-what the hell?" he blurted, "Where did you get that from? And _why_?!"

"Never mind," Philip sighed, "Let's just go…" he faltered, staring at the other side of the room intently.

"What?" Daniel pried, "What is it?"

"Daniel…the wardrobe," Philip said quietly, "It's gone,"

Daniel blinked, trying not to completely lose it. The wardrobe was nowhere to be found.

"What is going on?" he muttered softly.

"Let's just keep going," Philip answered after a very pregnant silence, "Come on,"

* * *

Daniel fought the urge to cling onto Philip's sleeve as he led him into the next strange room. There were several metal canisters—huge ones, like drums—positioned around the enclosure.

"Cryostasis," Philip muttered to himself.

"What?" Daniel asked nervously.

"Those canisters are full of really cold material meant to preserve things," Philip explained vaguely. Daniel frowned; he didn't like his tone.

"Like…?" he pried.

"Like…bodies," Philip answered hesitantly. Daniel swallowed; that wasn't what he had wanted to hear. He held back as Philip stepped forward to examine a lever on the far wall. Daniel fought the urge to scream as the outside of a small container lifted up. A frozen severed head came into view, mounted on a pedestal.

Daniel struggled to control his breathing as Philip reached out and touched the damned thing—it wobbled like it was made of some kind of rubber, bobbing back and forth on the pedestal-

"SHIT!" Philip cursed, staggering backwards in terror.

"ARRGH!" Daniel shouted, horrified, as he backed up against the far wall. Only…there was no wall. He fell to the floor with a thud.

"Ouch…" he muttered, getting to his feet only to be slammed into by Philip as he tumbled on top of him.

* * *

"What happened?" Philip asked groggily.

"Get off," Daniel hissed.

"Sorry," Philip mumbled as he staggered to his feet, "What the-? Is this Brennenburg again?" he blurted, looking around. Metal walls were replaced with crumbling stone ones—or at least Philip thought they were stone…the darkness made it difficult to tell. He jumped as a soft light appeared beside him. Daniel was looking around, holding the lantern.

"Good idea," Philip said, taking out the glowstick he had found; Daniel just about leapt out of his skin.

"WHAT IS THAT?" he demanded, staggering backwards in horror.

"It's called a glowstick," Philip explained as patiently as he could manage, "It lights things up. Unlike your lantern, it won't run out of fuel,"

Or at least he hoped it wouldn't. His flashlight was already out of batteries, so it was the only backup he had left. Daniel frowned at him skeptically in the greenish haze of the glowstick.

"Put that lantern out until we actually need it," Philip sighed, looking around. It was like a labyrinth, wherever they were. It was unbelievably dark; even the light of the glowstick seemed held back by something.

"So…where to?" Philip continued.

"The Inner Sanctum, wherever that is," Daniel said with a shrug, extinguishing the lantern, "Maybe-"

_"Please, let me go! I won't tell anyone, I swear! I just want to go home!" _

"What was that?!" Philip blurted, whirling around, "Did you hear that? Some girl was crying—maybe there's someone else down here!"

"Philip, wait-!" Daniel pleaded as Philip bounded down the hopelessly dark corridor.

"Hello?!" he called, "Anyone there?"

_"No! Get away from me! Leave me alone!"_

He came to a halt at the bottom of a stairwell. The hallway had caved in; surely she must be on the other side, whoever she was.

"Hold on, we'll get you out!" he called as Daniel caught up to him.

"What are you doing?" Daniel hissed, "They'll _hear you_. Stop shouting," he said pointedly, anger rising in his tone as he shook his lantern at him.

"She must be behind here," Philip said, gesturing toward the wall, "We have to get through. Maybe whoever's over there can help us escape,"

Daniel was silent for a moment, pondering.

"The explosive," Daniel said finally, turning and walking rather quickly back upstairs. Philip followed, the glowstick casting a macabre green glow as he ran after him.


	3. Chapter 3

"I've gotta hand it to you, Daniel, that was rather impressive," Philip praised as Daniel placed the pot containing the explosive at the base of the crumbled rocks blocking their way. 'For someone with amnesia, that is,' he wanted to add, but decided against it. Daniel had gone silent while gathering the materials for the explosive, muttering to himself. Philip did his best to ignore it.

"Go!" Daniel ordered as he lit the vase full of chemicals and ran up the stairs. Philip followed quickly after, covering his ears as the floor below them erupted in a loud roar.

After a few moments, they were through.

* * *

Daniel swallowed, trying to maintain his composure. Things were coming back to him in pieces. Horrible things, actually—nothing that brought comfort. _A strange blue light. The feeling of suffocation. A…little girl? In a…blue…dress? _He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself down. None of it made any sense.

_"Why are you doing this? Get away from me!"_ the girl shouted again.

"Don't worry, we're coming," Philip called, more quietly than last time. Daniel hesitated; something felt…horrible. He couldn't put his finger on it, but—

_"Oh God no—! Please, I beg you-!"_

Daniel gasped in terror, stopping in his tracks as sounds erupted from the corridor. The girl spluttered feebly, followed by an ominous thump. Philip screeched to a halt, horrified. He slowly spun to face Daniel, who turned away.

* * *

Philip licked his lips nervously as he walked alongside Daniel through the corridors of Brennenburg. Neither one of them had spoken since entering the "Storage," as Daniel called it. He eyed the other man warily; Daniel was staring straight ahead of them, his face set. Philip couldn't stand much more of this. The darkness was getting to him. The silence, unbroken save for the occasional hiss of what Philip could have sworn were cockroaches jittering along the walls…

He drew a deep breath, staring at the glowstick in his outstretched arm.

"Look, Daniel-"

"No," Daniel said curtly. Philip saw through the ruse; he was pleading.

"No, we have to talk about this," Philip insisted, though deep down he had no desire to do anything of the sort, "Who was that? What happened to her?"

"I…don't remember," Daniel muttered.

"Then why are you avoiding the topic?" Philip pried, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Because it's horrible, that's why," Daniel snapped as he grabbed the handle of a wooden door and yanked it open, "So stop asking-"

"RUUURRRRRRGGGHH,"

Philip yelped as something large and certainly not human whirled around to face them. He stared in horror as the thing stared back, its beady yellow eyes widening as it lunged forward.

"Philip!" Daniel shouted, grabbing Philip by the arm and yanking him down the hallway. Philip stumbled, dropping the glowstick.

"No, wait-!" he hissed, but Daniel had a firm grasp on his arm and was dragging him behind a stack of crates.

"Leave it!" Daniel squeaked, "And be quiet," he added hastily, cramming himself into the small corner beside Philip and turning toward the wall.

Philip felt his jaw fall open as the…thing…lumbered out of the room Daniel had opened. It growled as it shuffled down the corridor and stood, mesmerized, in front of Philip's glowstick. In the dim green light, the creature didn't appear to have a face, just a gaping hole that drooped down onto its misshapen torso. Philip fought to stifle a whimper as his gaze slowly roved over the creature's limbs. Hanging at its sides were not hands, but hideously deformed claws. It was about as tall as a man, Philip noted vaguely as he felt himself start to shake. It couldn't have started out as a man…right? He bit his lip, trying to quell his panic as his breathing became labored. He tried to close his eyes, but they wouldn't obey him; he was transfixed, and he was going to lose it.

He found himself suddenly facing a bleary stone wall as a hand grasped his head and roughly jerked it away from the creature.

"Ow!" he hissed, earning a growl from the creature in response. He froze, his heart hammering in his throat. The light cast by the glowstick jerkily moved along the wall—had that thing picked it up? He slowly tried turning back to look, but Daniel's hand on the back of his skull held him fast. He resisted, only to have Daniel yank painfully on his hair. Philip gave in, settling for watching the light of the glowstick bob up and down along the wall.

* * *

After what seemed like an eternity, the damned thing finally left.

"I think the coast is clear," Philip whispered, turning to take a look. He growled as Daniel tugged on a fistful of his hair once again and slapped his hand away, "Stop that!" he commanded, turning and looking down the corridor. All that met him was stifling darkness, illuminated by the glowstick. It had been moved a few feet, but not taken.

"Oh thank God," he whispered, getting up and retrieving the glowstick, "What in the hell was that thing?" he asked, turning back toward Daniel. The man was still crouched in the corner, shuddering and clawing at the wall.

"Daniel, it's gone," Philip said as gently as he could manage as his voice quivered, "Get up," he ordered, extending his hand out to him.

"…what…what is this place…?" Daniel mumbled, barely audible. Philip's eyebrows shot into his hairline as he frowned worriedly.

"It's Brennenburg," Philip answered carefully, "You told me that…remember?"

Philip jumped as Daniel burst into laughter, clutching his knees to his chest.

"Keep it down!" Philip hissed, looking behind them nervously.

"…should kill them all! Burn this castle down-!" Daniel spluttered between guffaws, letting go of his knees and clinging to the wall.

"Shut up!" Philip demanded angrily, shaking the glowstick at him. Daniel went silent, blinked a few times, and then completely dissolved into hysterical laughter.

"I said shut up!" Philip shouted, smacking Daniel across the face. Daniel's head swung to the side, his hair hiding his expression. He sat, motionless, as Philip worriedly looked on.

"Daniel?" Philip called, swallowing. He could not afford to have Daniel check out on him now—he was the only ally he had in this hellhole, "Hey!" Philip said, shaking Daniel's shoulder. To his shock, the man was sobbing.

"All dressed in blue…" Daniel mumbled, his voice cracking.

"Daniel?" Philip repeated, awkwardly grabbing Daniel by the hair and forcing him to look at him. The man's eyes weren't focused, the brown orbs haphazardly taking in their surroundings as he continued muttering.

"Come on, don't do this," Philip mumbled under his breath, "Daniel, look at me," he commanded. To his relief, Daniel did, his focus resting on Philip's face.

"Good," Philip exhaled gratefully, "We need to get out of here. And you need to stay focused, okay?" he coached, though he wasn't sure where the sudden calmness was coming from. Actually, Philip would have much preferred to curl up next to Daniel and start muttering along with him and wait to die, but hey—perhaps it was the fear of being alone that drove him forward.

"Okay?" he repeated when Daniel wouldn't answer. Finally, he nodded.

"Good," Philip said, standing up and extending his hand out to Daniel, "Now get up. That thing could come back at any time,"


	4. Chapter 4

"Don't look at them," Daniel said suddenly as the two of them snuck out of Storage and back into the room with the strange fountain—Philip had been staring at it with unease before Daniel spoke, seeing as the water had turned a deep red.

"What?" Philip blurted, startled. The man hadn't uttered a single word since the scare in Storage.

"If you look at them for too long, you'll start to go…insane. You'll get caught," Daniel explained hollowly, staring straight ahead of him. Philip wanted to ask how in the world he knew that, but he settled for nodding slowly instead.

"So…now where?" Philip asked uncertainly, gulping nervously. He didn't exactly relish the idea of asking a crazy man for directions, but he reasoned he wasn't exactly of sound mind at this point, either.

"Just like at Regent's Park," Daniel muttered, leading him down a dark hallway into another room. Philip didn't even bother asking what in the world he was talking about. They entered an intersection of sorts, a large structure with double doors at its center.

"Is that an elevator?" he wondered aloud, walking forward and standing next to Daniel. The man was staring at the elevator doors, frowning.

"It's broken," Daniel stated glumly, "The machinery needs to be fixed,"

* * *

Philip rubbed his temples tiredly as Daniel scurried about the "machinery room," pulling levers and standing back to stare at them, shaking his head in frustration…it was exhausting, and Philip was burnt out. He took a seat on the floor and leaned against the wall. It couldn't hurt to rest his eyes for a while.

* * *

"Done!" Daniel announced with triumph as the machinery began clanking away. Now they could get to the lower levels, to Alexander. He frowned, the hatred in the pit of his stomach gnawing at him. He absolutely loathed the man, though he didn't know why. Truthfully, he realized, he didn't want to know. He turned toward his friend, eager to return to the ascending room. Philip appeared to be asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically where he lay slumped against the wall.

Daniel hesitated. Should he wake him? Honestly he wasn't sure how the man could sleep in a place like this.

"Red…?" Philip mumbled.

"I'm sorry?" Daniel asked, shaking his head. When Philip didn't answer, Daniel walked over and crouched in front of him. Daniel frowned; yes, he was definitely asleep.

"Well, I suppose I could give you a couple of minutes…" he sighed, about to get up and pace around the room for a while, when Philip stirred.

"Mmph," he announced, rubbing his eyes, "Is it working?" he asked as he fixed upon Daniel.

"Seems to be," Daniel answered, grateful that he was awake, "We should get moving,"

"Right," Philip sighed, getting to his feet and stretching.

* * *

"This thing is…safe…right?" Philip asked uncertainly as they left the machine room. The elevator looked decrepit, and Philip didn't relish the idea of plunging to his death in it.

Daniel didn't have a chance to answer as the room suddenly went dark with an ominous thud. A horrible roaring sound erupted, filling the chamber and forcing Philip to clamp his hands to his ears. He slammed his eyes shut, trying to keep the sound out as he emitted a strangled yelp. He cautiously pried one eye open—to his horror, the entire room was moving, walls pulsing as if alive.

"What the hell is that?!" he blurted, stepping back in disgust from a blob of pulsating red tissue that had suddenly sprung up all over the floor, the walls—

"OW!" he cried as something lashed him across the small of his back. He stumbled forward, ending up on his face. He spun; he had inadvertently backed up into a blob of tissue. It squelched noisily at him; he shuddered.

"The Shadow…" Daniel murmured ominously, "It's…close, now,"

"Well then let's get the hell out," Philip snapped, clambering to his feet and leading Daniel toward the elevator. To his surprise, the elevator sprang to life without event. Philip sighed in relief, running his hands through his hair.

"So that's the thing that's after you," he deduced, throwing Daniel a look. The man nodded stiffly. Philip sighed again, nodding back at him.

"Well, at least we-" Philip started, but was cut off by the elevator abruptly shuddering to a halt. The loud roar from earlier returned, and they were suddenly plummeting, the walls of the elevator stained a sickly red.

Neither one of them thought to cry out; there was really no time to react as they crashed to the ground floor with a thunderous crash.

* * *

"By the way, you can call me 'Red.' It's not my name, you understand, but I'm sure you will agree it is a name rather similar to a cardigan—fetching, when worn correctly," he said over the radio.

"…what?" Philip blurted, glaring up at the speakers with a frown. He shivered; this was crazy. He had to keep moving, but—

He whirled around as a scratching sound caught his attention. He wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Red eyes blinked at him in the darkness—eight of them.

He yelped as the spider gave chase, tearing down the icy corridor and shrieking horribly as it went. Philip ran for his life, stumbling feverishly along the tunnel as more spiders emerged, the clacking of their spindly legs a drumbeat to his rising panic.

"No," he mumbled as he collided with a rock in the tunnel. He hurriedly hacked at it with his ice pick, cracking it enough to squeeze past as the spiders gained on him. He cried out as one of them nabbed his ankle; a sharp pain and sudden rush of heat announced that he had been bitten.

Philip grunted as he exploded from the tunnel and slammed into the concrete floor. His knees failed him and he scooted his back up to the far wall, panting for breath. He hissed as his ankle throbbed angrily.

"There should be some insect repellent in the red and white crossed box in that room," Red announced, causing Philip to jump, "Just in case those spiders found your flesh…delicious," he added maliciously.

"You son of a bitch-" Philip growled furiously.

"How does my brain flesh know your fluids are leaking? Because Red tricked you!" the man laughed uproariously, his voice reverberating in the cold metal room, "The spidery tunnel was far from a necessary evil; moreso it served as well-deserved punishment! You thought that my mind had been lost to the ravages of time, but poetic justice has struck with a sonnet, and an eight-legged baptism of fire!"

"Go to hell!" Philip wanted to cry out, but a strangled whine is all that emerged. The pain was going up his calf, now, moving up his leg. He swallowed, removing his boot and trying to ignore that the spider had bitten clear through it as Red giggled hysterically.

"With justice now served cold, I hope that we can be good friends," he jibed happily, "Now: reclaim the key and go-go juice, and find a way to the mining monster!" he instructed.

Philip swallowed as Red's voice faded in a crackle of static. Madman or not, he was his only ally here. Red was his only…friend.

"Philip?" Red asked suddenly.

"Yes?" Philip answered, knowing full-well he couldn't hear him.

"Philip?" Red repeated.

"What?" Philip said, looking up at the speaker on the wall.

He looked back down again as the room shifted, turning a dull red and gray. Philip rose cautiously, trying to get his bearings. This looked familiar, somehow…

"Good evening!" Red greeted from within the metal structure in front of him, "You…you actually came,"

Philip felt his stomach lurch; something was wrong.

"You came—you're so pretty—but I have been bad," Red babbled.

"Where are you?" Philip called, walking up to the metal chamber.

"The underworld already beckons me, so I suppose one further misdemeanor will change little," Red continued. Philip paced around the structure, searching for a door, "It is false pretension and not guiding light with which I have led you here. I cannot give you the answers you want,"

Philip stopped dead in his tracks at that statement, staring up at the metal structure incredulously.

"W-what?" he managed, his voice cracking.

"Philip?" Red asked insistently.

"Yes, Red?" Philip answered, biting his lip nervously. Something was definitely wrong.

"You may wish to find what it is you seek, but that is a fiction. You cannot know what it is you sought through the vast leaden doorway, or else you would see anything else in the world," Red continued, pausing for a moment to sigh.

"The key," Philip blurted, a dim flicker of hope rising in his chest.

"No, the key, it stays in here with me," Red answered after a moment's pause; Philip suddenly felt nauseous. He was trapped.

"…so the life that has led me-horrible as it may be-is better still than the life that waits for you hungry behind those doors," Red continued sadly, "As replacements go, you shall be most admirably abnormal,"

"What are you saying-?" Philip squeaked.

"But, you must wonder why this metal burning chamber is talking to you in a voice you knew only as Red, for it is I, your companion residing within,"

Philip froze._"Burning chamber?"_

"You see, I am waiting for this day so many years- they won't let me die. They, parts of my head, are not my own, and I cannot take my life; it is against the rules. Please, the pain has gone on for so long," Red pleaded, "All I wanted was a friend, but now the time for chitchat and marshmallows by the fire has ended, and I hope that soon so shall my life. I have knocked on the death's door for so long; please, let him invite me in for tea,"

Philip swallowed as the dread washed over him. He was trapped. And now…

"Philip?" Red asked, more urgently this time.

"I know," Philip whispered as he slid his numb fingers over the "Ignition" button and pressed. He staggered backwards as Red's screams erupted from the chamber.

"Turn it off!" he cried in agony, but Philip knew he couldn't. He had tried before.

"Philip?" Red asked.

"I…Red. I'm so sorry," Philip whispered.

"Philip!" Red repeated, louder this time. Philip fell to the floor, clasping his hands over his ears as he sobbed.

"PHILIP!"

"Stop it!" Philip pleaded as the tears washed over his face and into the fibers of his jacket.

"PHILIP!"

* * *

"Philip?" Daniel called for what felt like the hundredth time. He could barely sit up, the way his head was throbbing, but he had managed to crawl over to where Philip had been thrown out of the ascending room as it crashed. The man was alive, thank God, but unconscious.

"Philip!" Daniel shouted, peeling the man's strange jacket away from his face. He was very pale, but his eyelids were moving, "Hey! Philip?" Daniel called, tapping the man's cheek gingerly.

"W-what?" Philip mumbled feebly.

"Oh thank God," Daniel praised, rolling onto his back to let another dizzy spell wash over him, "Wake up, Philip," he coached, but got no response.

"Philip?" Daniel repeated worriedly, rolling over onto his side to face him.

"Yes, Red…?" Philip murmured. Daniel frowned; he didn't have time for this. He settled instead for calling his name out repeatedly, shaking the man by the shoulders for good measure.

"Stop it!" Philip cried, lurching upward suddenly and collapsing back down. Daniel blinked; the man was crying. Tears were escaping from beneath his closed lids and into his collar.

"Philip?" he asked, gentler this time. To his relief, the other man's eyes opened; pale green, like jade. He blinked a few times, disoriented.

"What…?" he grunted, clasping his hands to his head and moaning, "The elevator," he added glumly, his voice muffled by his arm over his face.

"Welcome back," Daniel said, meaning for it to be a joke and failing. His voice quivered as he spoke.

"You okay?" Philip asked after a moment.

"I think so," Daniel guessed, cautiously getting to a crouch without event. He fished a bottle from his pocket and took a swig; the liquid was thick, like molasses. It tasted oily, and spiced with something Daniel couldn't place. The taste was familiar and comforting, somehow.

"Here," he said, offering the bottle to Philip.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Laudanum," Daniel answered, "It's a medical bracer,"

Philip sat up, cringing, and looked at the bottle questioningly.

"Isn't that opium?" he blurted, cocking an eyebrow and wincing; Daniel just shrugged.

"Thanks, but I've got my own," Philip coughed, taking a small white bottle out of the pocket of his jacket. Daniel watched curiously as he put the bottle to his lips and swallowed a few small white pills.

"What's-?" Daniel began.

"Aspirin," Philip said, capping the bottle with a loud snap and putting it back in his pocket, "So…is this the Inner Sanctum?" he asked, looking around.

"I don't know," Daniel answered, frowning, "I-"

_"What was that?!" he blurted as sound erupted out of the blackness._

_ "Forgive me—I should have warned you," Alexander apologized, "One of my responsibilities as a baron is that of a prison warden. This is where criminals are locked up,"_

"Like a…dungeon," Daniel muttered.

"What?" Philip asked.

"I…I think this is some kind of prison," Daniel managed; his head was pounding.

"And it's-?" Philip cut himself off abruptly as a man's agonized scream filled the silence. 'In use' is what he had meant to say, but that point seemed moot now. The two men stared at the dark entryway with trepidation for a moment, both too horrified to speak.

"W-well, we can't go back up there," Daniel said finally, gesturing toward the rubble behind them.

"Guess not…" Philip sighed, gingerly rubbing his throbbing skull. Everything hurt, but the pain killers were starting to kick in. He shivered as a damp wind slid past him, caressing his face—

"What…?" he mumbled as he realized that his cheeks were damp.

_Red. _

"You alright?" Daniel asked awkwardly from next to him.

"I'm fine," Philip snapped, hurriedly wiping his face with his sleeve. God, what had he done? Red. That poor man...how could Philip have done that to him?

"You ready?" he added, eager to change the subject. Daniel looked him over briefly before nodding.

"Great," Philip sighed as he slowly got to his feet, "Let's go,"


	5. Chapter 5

Philip coughed, leaning on his knees as he panted for breath. This was madness. Daniel had collapsed onto the floor in the dimly lit prison cell, hyperventilating.

"What—what was that?" Philip demanded. The two of them had barely managed to scramble away from whatever the thing patrolling the halls was; they had ducked into the first space they could find to hide.

"Ssh!" Daniel hissed between wheezes, crawling along the far wall toward a bed frame.

"What are you doing?" Philip gasped as Daniel shoved the bed frame aside; there was a small hole in the floor, "Oh, brilliant!" Philip praised, clapping his hand over his mouth as something out in the corridor grunted loudly.

_"Shit,"_ Philip thought to himself bitterly as he crawled across the cell. Of course they would pick the cell with no door to hide in. Of _course_.

"We can't fit in there!" Philip hissed, looking over his shoulder at the open doorway nervously. Footsteps were approaching, accompanied by grunts that were most certainly not human.

"I just need to widen it," Daniel whispered, fishing a hammer and chisel from the pocket of his overcoat.

"Wait, where did you get-?"

"Ssh!" Daniel warned as he noisily began chiseling away at the loose stone in the floor.

Philip's blood ran cold as the footsteps outside sped up.

"Hurry!" he urged, stealing a look at the doorway as something large and misshapen lumbered through it. He screamed, scooting backwards as the thing let out a deep growl. The thing had no face. It was as if its head had been split down the middle, its arms replaced with implements of rusty metal—

"Philip!" Daniel shouted as the stone gave way, "Come on, this way!" he shouted as he entered the tunnel—a cry and a loud crack filled the cell, and Daniel was silent.

"Daniel?!" Philip screamed, pressing his back against the wall as the creature approached him, swinging its scythe-like arm into the air and roaring as it swung—

* * *

"NOO!" Philip cried, throwing himself into a sitting position and looking around wildly. He blinked. The room was made of dull concrete, not to mention frigid. A door lay ahead of him, with a green light above it illuminating the dim space.

"…what the hell?" he muttered, trying to get his bearings. Had he…been here before?

"Dammit! For a moment there, I thought might have been curtains!" Clarence exclaimed from inside Philip's skull.

Philip felt his heart sink. The Shelter. He was back in The Shelter. But, what about—

"Daniel?" Clarence spluttered, "Who's Daniel? What was in that stuff, anyway? Some kind of psychedelic thing?"

"What…?" Philip asked, trying to get to his feet and failing. His legs felt like they were made of water, not to mention his headache. He looked down as a tiny clinking noise caught his attention. The small glass barrel of the syringe rolled across the metal floor, coming to a stop against the leg of a nearby chair. So he had tricked the system into thinking there was a medical emergency, just like…before.

"Well? What are you standing around for? Let's go!" Clarence demanded.

Philip shook his head, trying to keep the gnawing feeling of loneliness at bay. Daniel wasn't real; he must have been dreaming or something. Nobody would help him now.

He was on his own.

"Aww, Monkey, don't say things like that," Clarence crooned, "How can you say you're alone when you have good ol' Clarence around to help you out, eh?"

Philip did his best to ignore the Tuurngait's laughter as he approached the door.

* * *

Daniel gasped as he awoke. Wherever he was, it was dark.

"Philip?" he whispered, taking out his lantern and looking around. He winced; a lump on the top of his head was throbbing angrily. He was in some kind of tunnel, and by the looks of it, not a very stable one. Chunks of rock lay strewn about, like they had been broken apart from the ceiling—

Daniel looked up, squinting into the darkness above.

The prison. He had opened a hole in the floor in the prison, and he had barely managed to get the thing open in time before…

Daniel's heart leapt into his mouth.

_The Gatherer._

"Philip?!" he shouted, but received no answer. Daniel hurriedly began piling the loose stones on top of one another, making a pedestal for him to stand on and peer out of the opening in the cell. He cautiously looked up; the room was empty, with no sign of a struggle. Daniel shuddered; a Gatherer certainly wouldn't have left the cell devoid of limbs or gore of some variety. He frowned. Perhaps…there hadn't been anyone else there?

"Philip?" he whispered into the darkness, unbroken save for a candle flickering feebly in the corner. Daniel gulped—was it all a trick of his mind?

He jumped as the candle abruptly went out.

Time to keep moving.

* * *

**Thanks for taking the time to read! ^_^**

**Both of these games were freaking terrifying. The wobbly head in Black Plague gave me nightmares. O_O**

**I kind of want team Philip/Daniel to be a thing. I think they'd help each other out...either that or they'd both slowly go insane together, but at least they wouldn't be alone. Go team.**


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